Rosco jolts awake, very much on his own, long after sunrise, for the fourth morning in a row. With a groan he rolls to his back, shielding his eyes from the sun with his arms.

“You can summon a magic lamp,” his morning voice that of a 70yearold smoker, “but you can’t follow simple instructions to wake a person up?”

Hayden chuckles from somewhere to the right, “While many have accused me of being unable to follow directions, you are the first to say it to my face.”

“I’ll say it again tomorrow.”

“Do you envision I will fail in my task again tomorrow?”

“Definitely.” forcing himself up and pushing his blanket off in a sleepy huff, “Why can’t you just wake me up properly?” he huffs while aggressively gathering his things, “We had a late start yesterday, now we’ll have a late start today. I don’t have any idea how long it takes to walk to Falties but at this rate we are never going to get there!” sipping his water to clear the sleep taste from his mouth.

“I enjoy watching you sleep.”

Water comes out of Rosco’s nose, making his eyes burn. Coughing and sputtering as he tries to clear his airways, “You can’t just say things like that!”

Hayden frowns, pressing his lips into a fine line, “I think you are forgetting our positions again, Rosco. Why exactly have I been banned from this statement?”

“It’s weird! People will get weird ideas! Gods, it’s hard enough sleeping knowing you’re sitting there watching me, now I have to live with the knowledge you enjoy it? What does that even mean?! Agh!” Throwing his hands over his ears, “Never mind don’t tell me, I don’t want to know, I’ll just forget this conversation happened.”

Hayden set his mouth in a frown but thankfully says nothing else, but Rosco still decides to hum loudly just in case the god decides to say anything else ridiculous.

Humming becomes singing as they travel. Rosco had been told on many occasions that he has a pleasant singing voice. And he rather enjoys it, often finding himself singing unconsciously. The problem is he dosn’t have the attention span to finish an entire song. Often losing his place in the middle, or starting over, or accidentally switching songs entirely if the melody matched up.

It doesn’t bother Rosco at all, but other people complain, mostly his foster siblings, Lolly would ask him to sing if it was just the two of them.

So far, he can’t tell which side of the fence Hayden is leaning towards. The god hasn’t said anything yet, and Rosco keep peaking back to catch glimpses of his face, but Hayden’s expression remains neutral. Which is annoying so, Rosco sings louder.

While he sings Rosco notes every change in the landscape as they grow ever closer to the mountains looming on the horizon.

The flat earth of the plains is beginning to roll and dip into hills. Rocks of every shape and size jut out of the ground. The tree line becomes clearer with every step. The road itself also changes the further they walk. Packed dirt becoming gravel, giving their steps a crunching sound. The few early birds already returned from winter sing along in the growing scattering of trees and bushes. Rosco’s eyes widened in amazement, drinking in every sight, nearly wandering off the path more times than he cares to count. The singing does help keep him on track, giving his mind something to do, but it can only help so much in the face of his curiosity.

Soon they begin to pass fenced off pasture, which was not all that noteworthy until Rosco spotted a massive herd of white fluff, blanketing the hills.

The boy forgets himself in his excitement, eagerly tugging on Hayden’s arm, “Oh my gods, look! It’s a whole herd of sheep! I’ve never seen so many all in one place before! We have the wrong kind of land for them back in Ocil. Most people have cows or goats, goats will eat anything, but nobody keeps more than a few sheep. I once worked for this family that had a flock of 3 sheep and they were so much more fun than cows or goats. Cows are okay, I guess. They just get so big? I always feel one step away from being trampled. But I hate goats,” twisting his lips in disgust, “horrible mean creatures. And what happened to that barn was entirely not my fault.” freezing in place as realizes his mouth has run off without him again. He slowly looks back over his shoulder to find Hayden already looking down at him.

His expression is so soft, drinking in every aspect of Rosco’s monologue with the gentlest smile, just turning up the corners of his lips and crinkling around his eyes.

“I- Uh- Y-you, you’re meant to be looking at the sheep.” The boy stammers out.

“I am aware of what they look like.” Hayden replies, eyes clearly wandering over him in detail. “But your features, I am not as familiar with as I would like to be.”

Rosco sucks in a quick breath as Hayden’s fingers brush over the peak of his cheek bone, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. He opens his mouth to protest but Hayden swiftly put a finger over his lips, shutting him up.

“I think it is because your every thought shows clearly on your face, nothing is hidden.”

Rosco never had the chance to let go of Hayden’s arm, so now his fingers dig in a little tighter.

“When you’re happy, your eyes light up,” the god goes on, “When sad, they fall, and you pinch together your eyebrows. As a god I can metaphorically open you, see and know everything. But with you it is unnecessary. Your face truly is the window to your soul, and it is a beautiful soul to see.” Hayden slowly pulls back, like one would inch back from a wild animal.

Rosco blinks when their contact breaks. For a moment his hand lingers in the air where he’d been holding Hayden’s arm before letting it fall to his side. Rosco’s mouth opens and closes a few times as if to speak, but no sound comes out. Eventually he spins, marching forward, trying to remember how to breathe. Traveling with a god was not going to be good for his heart.